


Letters

by beespiesandplaid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 11:13:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7168703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beespiesandplaid/pseuds/beespiesandplaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The summer is long and boring, so Sirius starts writing to Remus.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy :)

Walls are built for two things – keeping things out, and keeping things in. Sirius Black is firmly convinced that his walls are built for the latter. Technically, he is not a prisoner. In reality, the Black Family house is better equipped for incarceration than child rearing.

For the hundredth time, he curses Hogwarts policy of closing the school to students over summer. James is away, abroad somewhere, for the next three weeks. That means three weeks of living in this cell, being screamed at by his mother and watched over by Kreacher.

Hell.

He digs about in his trunk for parchment and a quill. He’s not a natural at letter writing, but he can’t think what else to do – since his escapades in a muggle club last summer, his Mother has stopped allowing him out without supervision.

_Moony,_

_You have GOT to save me. I don’t know how. Use your genius brain to get me out. And for Merlin’s sake, don’t tell anyone your plan.. Don’t trust anyone. My mother has eyes everywhere. She’s probably watching you pee._

_OK, that might have been a bit melodramatic. Sorry. My imagination goes wild without stimulation._

_I’m cooped up until James gets back from whatever paradise the Potter’s have picked this year. So, tell me what you are up to, Moony. I want the details. Any pretty girls in that little village of yours? Let me live vicariously through you._

_Yours,_

_Padfoot._

He folds the letter and ventures out of his room to find an owl. The Black’s have three owls. Two of them hate him; the other treats him with reluctant respect. After first year, Sirius decided it would be prudent to get one of the creatures on side in case of emergency. He bought a sack of owl treats and slowly trained the owl over the summer. Now it will send him a letter without alerting his mother first. It’s not a huge amount of freedom, but it’s more than nothing.

…

 

Remus eyes the owl warily. His family don’t receive a lot of mail, at least, not wizarding mail. The odd letter for his father, and the odd message for him from James or Peter. But he knows their owls – the Potter’s is an old owl, slow and reliable, with a fondness for stealing socks. Peter’s is a tiny, twitchy thing – Remus is always worried it won’t survive the journey home.

This owl is huge, proud and sleek. It pecks at the window imperiously, reminding him oddly of McGonagall. He hauls the window open and retrieves the letter. The owl settles on the windowsill, waiting for a reply.

Recognizing the handwriting instantly, Remus feels his heart flutter, betraying him. Sirius. He scans through it before sitting down to reply.

_Pads,_

_I’m so glad you wrote. I’m not under the watchful eye of your mother, unless that owl can read. I’m bored senseless though – I’ve already finished all my homework, even that six page essay Binns set._

_I guess I have a new project now – free Sirius Black. I’ll admit that I’m not sure I’m brave enough to take on your mother. Maybe I can get a disguise – I’ll pretend to be one of her horrible friends (no offense) and I’ll… say that my daughter wants to date you. You’re always moaning about how she’s trying to set you up._

_Nothing to report here, I’m afraid. I’m working in a café – I’m excellent at making coffee these days. No pretty girls though. Or boys. I’ll let you know if any handsome strangers show up to whisk me away. I’ll ask them to make a detour and collect you too. That’s a bit weird actually, sorry._

_I really hope you’re OK, Pads._

_Speak soon,_

_Remus._

_…_

 

 _Or boys._ Or boys! Did Moony just come out to him in a letter? Just as well it was a letter, because Sirius isn’t sure he could have handled that face to face. He’d have been way too obvious. Sirius finds himself being absurdly jealous of this fictional handsome stranger.

He’s being silly, Sirius tells himself. It’s just a joke – look at all that rubbish about Remus pretending to be some precocious, pure blood mother.

If it’s a joke… well, jokes are kind of Sirius’ speciality.

_Moony,_

_Please show up in disguise. You’ve got to wear heels and a fur coat. Oh, and remember to stick your chin so high in the air that it makes your neck ache._

_If you’re bored, feel free to write my essay for Binns. Actually, my boredom might actually force me to do something other than procrastinate. It’s that bad._

_So… what would this handsome stranger look like then? (do you really like boys, Moony? I’d never have guessed. Sorry if that’s too personal.)_

_Yours,_

_Pads._

He can’t help imagining himself as the stranger, riding into town on a stallion, the wind in his hair, his grey eyes squinted, coat collar turned up.  Idiot. A more likely scenario – he falls of the horse and Remus has to bandage his broken arm, telling him what a fool he is whilst he does it.

Still, he’d settle for that. He picks up another piece of paper, dips his quill in ink, and starts to write recklessly.

_Moony,_

_I miss you. I want to rescue you from that café and escape my stupid mother and we can go on an adventure, just the two of us, away from all of this._

_I’d be the handsome one, of course._

_Just kidding. We both know you’re more beautiful than me._

_Merlin, you have no idea how much I want to kiss you sometimes. It’s out of control._

_Obviously I’m going to tear this letter into a million pieces right now. I can’t say these things._

_Love, always,_

_Pads._

He puts the quill down, and looks at the two pieces of paper. His breathing is rapid, heart unsteady. He could do it. He could fold the letter up and send it. But he imagines the sick feeling after, the silence as he waits for Remus to reply. No. He can’t do that. He tears the letter into thin strips, breathing returning to normal, and sends the other note off with the owl.

He holds Remus’ letter, folded into a small square, in his fist as he goes to sleep.

 

 

…

 

Remus reads the note, smiling at Sirius’ description of his mother’s friends. He wonders how to reply, how to answer Sirius question about his sexuality.

How does he say that it isn’t so much boys as boy? How the handsome stranger is Sirius, maybe a little older, a little more brooding, but Sirius none the less.

_Pads,_

_I don’t think I’d make a very convincing woman. We need a plan B. You come up with the plan, and I’ll execute it. As long as it doesn’t involve underage magic, prostitutes, murder, wedding cakes or hippogriffs. Actually, I can’t imagine you coming up with a single plan that I would be OK with. I’m working on it._

_Yes Pads, I really do like boys. Well, one boy, really. But it’s not going to work out because he spends too much time looking in the mirror and not enough time studying._

_Speak soon,_

_Moony._

Merlin did he really just write that? Is he going to send that? Remus swallows. Yes. Yes he is. He’s spent the last year looking at Sirius, watching, waiting, searching for signs. And anyway, he can always deny it – pretend he fancies James or something. Remus almost laughs out loud at that idea. He can just imagine James, blushing, awkwardly patting Remus on the shoulder and apologising for not swinging that way.

He stuffs the letter a pouch and ties it to the owls leg. Vanishing into the night, the owl leaves Remus alone in his room, heart in his mouth.

…

_Too much time looking in the mirror?_

Does Remus mean him? Could he actually mean that? Nah. Probably fancies James.

Sirius thinks the idea of that would make him laugh, if it didn’t make him so jealous. But it could mean him. Moony could mean him. Moony could actually be saying, in writing, that he hopes Sirius will whisk him away from the café on horseback, galloping into the moonlight, hands wrapped around Sirius strong waist and…

Shut up, Sirius tells his brain. Just chill.

_Moony,_

_Mother is worse than ever. She says I need to go on a diet because I’ve gotten “podgy” at Hogwarts (a total lie – I have a hot quidditch bod don’t worry) I am fairly sure it is an excuse to feed me a diet of salad. Hurry up with your plan._

_I’m insulted that you’d think I’d involve you with any of those terrible ideas, Moony. I’m a respectable young man. I suggest a flying motorbike. Always wanted a flying motorbike._

_Too much time looking in the mirror? Sounds like an idiot, Moony. He should be looking at you instead. Anyway, I’d best stop writing. I’m very eager to get started on that essay for Binns. This is the year I turn over a new leaf and ace my exams…_

_Yours,_

_Padfoot._

_…_

Did Sirius mean anything by all that? Does he know Remus meant him? Does he know and not feel the same way? This letter writing is infuriating. If he could see Sirius right now, he’d know. He’d see it written all over his face. Sirius is a great joker, but a terrible liar. At least, Remus always knows when he is lying.

Hot quidditch Bod? Remus smirks at Sirius arrogance, but his mind is only too happy to conjure up images of Sirius, shrugging off quidditch robes.

This is a nightmare. Sirius is his best friend.

_Pads,_

_Hot Quidditch Bod my arse. I’ve seen how many cakes you eat at dinner._

_I might know a guy who knows a guy who knows a unicorn with a flying motorbike. Do they even exist?_

Remus pauses. Should be looking at you.

_Nah, I don’t blame him for looking in the mirror. I’m no beauty. Are you really writing your essay?_

_I miss you, Pads. And James and Peter, too._

_Remus._

_…_

_I miss you I miss you I miss you (and James and peter too.)_ Were they an afterthought or is Sirius reading wrong? He should just ask. He should just ask Remus.

What a prick he’d sound though. “Hey Moony, am I secretly the man of your dreams?” As if. And he does not eat _that_ many cakes. Sirius pokes at his tummy. Maybe he could be more muscular – James is more muscular than he is. But James is health freak and he does extra practice whilst Sirius pretends to study and stares at Remus.

_Moony,_

_Go and find that unicorn. Sell it my soul. If flying motorbikes don’t exist, I’ll make one._

_I do so have a hot quidditch bod. Don’t damage my self-esteem like this._

_You look fine, Remus. Anyone would be a fool not to see that._

_I miss you too._

_Pads._

He can’t think of anything else. He deliberately doesn’t add James and Peters names to the I miss you.

…

_Pads,_

_I have faith in your magical skills. I’ll go for a ride with you when you make that bike. Or not. I don’t want to die._

_I’ll believe in your hot quidditch bod when I see it. Can we stop saying Bod please? It’s making my vocabulary shrivel up and die._

_Thanks. You’re not so ugly yourself._

_Moony._

_…_

Does Moony want to see his hot quidditch bod? Oh god, they really do need to stop saying that. Sirius is starting to have nightmares where he turns into James.

Also, rude. He could definitely enchant a motorbike to fly (relatively) safely.

_Moony, light of my life, star of my heart,_

_I am betrayed by your insinuation that I’d practice unsafe enchantments._

_I think I’ll turn into Padfoot right now and run to your village to prove the existence of my abs. Also, does your café have cake? Cos that would be a major motivation for running._

_Merlin, I’m going insane over here. Two weeks till James is back._

_Pads._

_…_

Remus laughs at the idea of Sirius bursting into the café, as Padfoot, and then transforming and ripping his shirt of, like some crappy werewolf in a muggle movie.

_Padfoot._

_“light of my life” “star of my heart” – have you been reading muggle romance novels? I’m laughing at you right now. Stop being so silly._

_Oh, betrayed? Because you have_ such _a great track record of obeying the laws surrounding magic? Or did I imagine you perfecting the animagus spell two years ago?_

_We do have cake. I’d recommend coming on a Thursday – it’s chocolate brownie day. Mondays are a no go – there’s only carrot._

_I’m sorry you are bored. If I could do anything to help, I would._

_Moony._

Remus hopes Sirius doesn’t stop writing when James returns.

…

_Moony, object of my desires, most radiant of hippogriffs…. OK I’ll stop._

_I’m very hurt that you are laughing at me when I am pouring my heart out to you. I have a lot of very intense feelings, OK._

_Ssshhh that was totally legal (and all for you, I’ll remind you) (do you think I want to spend half my time as a great smelly dog)_

_OK I’ll see if I can pencil a Thursday into my oh-so-busy calender. Yes – I think it will fit right between “out screaming mother” and “hiding my underwear from my evil house-elf.”_

_You are helping, Moony. I adore your letters._

_Yours,_

_Pads._

Is it too much? The curse of being Sirius Black (well, one of the curses.) is that he jokes so often that it’s very hard for people to take him seriously. So, maybe he means everything he says in these letters, but he highly doubts Remus will believe him. Maybe that is the solution – outrageously confess his feelings in such a way that Remus will never suspect a thing.

He wants Remus to suspect though. He wants Remus to know. Why doesn’t he have any guts?

…

_Pads,_

_Seriously, can you stop with these weird jokes? I… I’m not really OK with it._

_Sorry._

_…_

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Times one thousand. Why is he such an inarticulate idiot?

And is Remus uncomfortable in case Sirius means what he’s saying, or in case he doesn’t?

Oh crap what does he even say to this? Does Remus not want to talk to him anymore?

Fuck. Sirius folds up the note and goes to sleep without replying. He needs to think. He wishes, abruptly, that Lily was here. She’s excellent at boy stuff. Unless the boy in question is James, in which case she is completely daft.

Tossing and turning for an hour, Sirius tries desperately to sleep. He’s never been great at leaving problems unsolved.

_Lily,_

_I hope you are having a nice holiday._

_I think… I think I’m in love with Remus, and I think I’ve ruined everything by accidentally being a prick. I don’t know if he likes me or hates me._

_Help,_

_Sirius._

Owls are a frustratingly slow way to communicate.

…

Sirius hasn’t replied. It’s been two days – normally his replies haven’t been more than twelve hours apart. Was Remus too direct? Did he come across as angry? Shit shit shit. He just… he couldn’t keep reading those _things_ when he didn’t know if Sirius meant it.

Surely if he meant it, he wouldn’t joke so much? Why was Sirius such a difficult person? Why did he have to hide everything real underneath so much bravado.

Remus sighs and picks up his quill.

_Lily,_

_Hope the summer hols are going well for you. Mine are pretty crap really, although it’s always nice to see mother and my sister for a few weeks. No sunshine though – I seem to live in a bubble where it rains incessantly._

_I’m writing to you because I have a problem, and you are good with these kinds of problems._

_I… I think I fancy Sirius? Like, not a little bit. Like a lot. And I maybe have done for a very long time._

_But he keeps making these stupid jokes and I can’t take it anymore. Not if he doesn’t mean them. And I accidentally wrote him a letter and it seemed really rude and I didn’t mean it too and now he’s not speaking to me and…_

_I think I’ve ruined everything._

_See you soon, Lil._

_Remus._

_…_

_Dear idiots._

_I’ve enclosed a copy of each of the letters you sent to me. I hate to get involved with other people’s love lives but this is by far the most ridiculous example of miscommunication I’ve ever come across._

_I hope you are very happy together._

_And don’t expect me to play agony aunt again._

_Love,_

_Lily._

_P.s if you see James, tell him to tone down the love letters, OK? I might actually fancy him if he’d find himself a bit of dignity._

_…_

_Not a little. Like, a lot._ Moony fancies him! Moony wants to kiss him! Moony wants to be his most radiant of hippogriffs… wait, no. No. That is literally the worst term of endearment he has ever heard, and once he heard James call Lily “a gorgeous turnip.”

But. Still. Moony!

…

 _I think I’m in love with Remus._ He meant it. Sirius meant it. OK, the hippogriff bit is still very weird, and so was all the stuff about his hot quidditch bod… but that’s Sirius for you. Remus hopes he wasn’t upset by his comment about the cakes.

Suddenly, the summer holidays have become at once more and less bearable. He can’t wait to get back to Hogwarts, but equally, writing to Sirius has suddenly become a lot more exciting.

Except he can’t think of anything to say.

…

_Remus,_

_I…._

_Well I guess you already know._

_Pads._

No that is shit. That is literally the worst love letter of all time. Maybe he needs some advice from James. Is he that desperate? No. No he isn’t.

He’ll reply tomorrow.

…

Sirius,

I’m… sorry I seemed so rude. I’m very happy you like me too.

Moony.

 

He can’t send that.  “like me too” – Sirius said he was in love with him! Is he in love with Sirius? Oh god. He doesn’t know. How does he deal with this? Last week they were just friends and now… now there’s confessions of love. By letter. What kind of 18th century novel is he in?

…

Three days pass, and the silence continues. Maybe Remus wasn’t ready for Sirius to know. Sirius isn’t even sure if he was ready for Remus to know. Fuck. He can’t stay here in this crappy room for another two weeks before seeing him.

He rummages under the bed and scrapes together enough muggle money to get a train ticket to Remus’.

Goodbye mother, and good riddance, he thinks. Better get a return though, just in case Moony freaks out.

Sirius really hopes Moony doesn’t freak out.

He sits on the train, staring out the window, trying to swallow nerves unlike any he has ever experienced before. It’s just Remus. He’s known him since they were twelve. He’s seen him cry, puke, shower, laugh, scream in anger.

But, despite knowing Remus as well as he knows himself (actually, probably better. Sirius has never been able to figure himself out.) he has no idea how Remus will react to seeing him.

…

Lunchtime rush over, the café is quiet. Remus finishes wiping down tables and then settles behind the counter, reading a book he had taken from the library last week. The door opens, pulling him out of his reading reverie.

“Sirius?”

Sirius is standing on the other side of the counter, hands shoved so deep in his pockets that Remus is worried they will never reemerge.

“Moony… I…”

“I’m sorry I’ve not written,” Remus blurts out. “I didn’t know how to reply. I really wanted to but I just… nothing sounded right.”

“Same,” Sirius says, rasing his head. They make eye contact, and Remus is surprised at how shy Sirius looks. Because of him. Sirius Black is shy and flustered because of him. Crazy.

“So…”

“I thought I’d come try that chocolate cake…”

“It’s Monday,” Remus says. “There’s only carrot.”

“Bummer. Guess I’ll head off then….”

Remus rolls his eyes and comes out from behind the counter, standing a few feet away from Sirius.

“That’d be a real waste of a trip. And you know, I’ve been waiting for a handsome stranger for almost two weeks….”

“I’m not a stranger,” Sirius points out.

“Pretty strange though. Radiant hippogriff?”

“Will you – do you want to kiss me or not? Because if you keep poking at my fragile self-esteem I’ll”

“Shut up,” Remus grins, pulling Sirius close. They pause, noses touching. Sirius is grinning like a loon, and Remus feels his own mouth stretch wide in response. Sirius’ unabashed happiness is contagious.

“So, Moony…” Sirius says.

“Yes?”

“Want to see my hot quidditch bod?”

Remus snorts and kisses him.

…

Moony is kissing him. He is kissing Moony. Merlin. Blood hell. Wow. Remus is very good at this kissing business. Or maybe that’s just cos it’s Moony.

And his hair is very soft. And his chest is very firm. Has Moony been working out? Maybe when they all thinks he’s off studying he’s actually doing push ups.

Maybe he does both. Maybe he recites important dates whilst he does situps.

Remus fingers are sliding underneath Sirius shirt. Sirius is pressed against the counter. Oh wow. He can’t think straight. Nothing about this is straight. What even are thoughts.

…

“So,” Remus says, still blushing. A customer had walked in, and Remus had apologised profusely and given her a discount. Very unprofessional.

“So,” Sirius replies, still smirking.

“I’m finished with work in two hours.”

“Then I’ll be back to meet you.”

Remus leans in to kiss him again. It’s meant to be just a peck, but it’s all so new, and Sirius is so warm, and his hands are in his hair and…

Sirius is going to get him fired.

**Author's Note:**

> This was pretty silly, but a lot of fun to write. I hope you liked it and if you'd consider leaving a comment it would make my day. :)


End file.
